Cora sucked in a breath. “You were practicing to show off for Little Star, weren’t you? That’s why you were trying to ride like a Comanche.” She glanced over her shoulder.
Teeth gritted, he lay against the pillows. His lower arm had swollen against the two sticks and strips of cloth she’d used to brace it. A black-and-blue mark radiated from the center of the red patch.
“She can’t beat me.” He scooted farther against the stack of pillows, sinking into them. “I’m going to show her I’m a warrior.” His voice faltered. “My arm’s got to get better.”
“There’ll be no racing until it’s completely healed. And if you try to hang out of the saddle again with nothing but your foot atop it, there won’t be any race.”
“But Cora?—”
“But nothing. And I’m sure Ben will have something to say about it when he gets back.”
“I want him to come home.”
Home. “I do too.” Sweep her into his strong arms and hold her close. “He’s taking the cattle to market to secure our ranch, our future.” Did Ben include himself in thatour? When it came down to it, would he really turn his back on everything in Pennsylvania and count the ranch as his home? Would their love take root and weather the storms to come?Dear Lord, please let it be so. Please bring him back safe and sound.
An hour later, she drove up to the livery stable, gently helped Charlie out of the back, and left the wagon. She wrapped her arm around the boy’s shoulders as she directed him toward the doctor’s office. Her free hand twitched to straighten her hair. But no. She wasn’t going to tidy herself up for that man. “We’ll try Dr. LeBeau’s office first. If he’s not in town this week, we’ll head to the bonesetter.”
“The barber?” Charlie grumbled and dragged his feet.
“He’s trained in setting breaks, but the doctor is the expert.” A breath shuddered through her. It’d been three weeks since she’d returned LeBeau’s gifts and ended his calling privileges. Maybe it’d be better if this wasn’t his week in Weatherford. By all rights, it shouldn’t be. But Charlie needed the best care.
A few blocks later, she led the boy down the walk and up the steps.
Mrs. Ruddy answered the knock. “Miss Scott? It’s been ages.” Her gaze scoured her, then landed on the boy. “What’s happened, child?”
Cora laid her hand on Charlie’s shoulders. “Fell off his horse. I believe his arm’s broken. Would Dr. LeBeau happen to be in town?”
“You’re in luck.” The lady smiled. “He arrived a week early. Rode in this morning. Come in.” She stepped out of the way and motioned toward the small waiting room. “Have a seat. The doctor is down at the café having his supper, but I’ll fetch him myself.”
“I’d hate to interrupt?—”
“For you, I’m sure it’d be no trouble.” Mrs. Ruddy grabbed her shawl from a hook and tucked it beneath the loose chignon of faded auburn hair. “We wouldn’t want the boy to suffer any longer than necessary.” She tipped her chin. “I reckon some people have discovered they need the doctor more than they thought they did.”
Cora blinked. Was the lady addressing her?
Mrs. Ruddy swooped out the door with one last grumble. “Yankees think they can waltz into Texas and steal whatever they want.” The door clicked behind her.
Charlie frowned. “What did she mean?”
“Never you mind.” Cora drew him toward a chair and sat. Either Arthur had confided in his housekeeper, or the womanwas an observant snoop. The way that lady gossiped, half the town probably had some fool notion of a love triangle between her, Ben, and LeBeau.
The mantel clock ticked for fifteen minutes before the door opened. Arthur stepped in, dressed in his usual black frock coat and top hat. His thin mustache twitched as his stormy blue eyes lingered on her. “Afternoon, Cora.” Cora still, not Miss Scott. But his voice was stiff. “I hear the boy took a fall.” He hung his hat on the coat tree in the foyer.
“I was charging on my horse.” Charlie raised his head from her shoulder and cradled his injured arm. “But I’m all right now. We can go.” Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Well, young man, I’m going to take a look just to be sure.” Down to his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, Arthur tossed his coat over the back of one of the waiting room chairs.
“I’m afraid it’s broken.” Cora perched on the front of her seat.
Arthur knelt in front of Charlie and extended his hand. “Let me see.”
The boy slowly lowered the arm to his waist, keeping it close to his body. The swollen red skin puffed against the ties and sticks.
Arthur frowned. “We’ll have to ice it overnight to get the swelling down. I’ll check it again tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ice?” Charlie’s brow crinkled. “I’ve never seen ice. Will that hurt?”
Cora bit her lip. “Where would we get it?”
